Mark of the Guardian
by Pokota
Summary: "Ignotus Peverell knew I was going to die on May 29, 1993. He cheated in my favor, that I could defend others from you." AU
1. A New Day Yesterday

**30 MAY, 1993  
** _Hogwarts, Hogsmeade Outskirts_

Harry opened his eyes. He was not sure where he was or why he was naked, but he did not feel uneasy about it. Taking stock of his surroundings, he realized that he was in a vast field of light. Looking for a few moments, he found a place to sit – it was like a park bench, freshly dried with a clean coat of paint. He sat for a moment, reflecting on what had just happened to him. The basilisk had bitten him in the arm just as he had speared it through the brain with the Sword of Gryffindor, and with his dying breath – his dying breath? - he had speared that damnable diary with the sword as well. "So, I'm dead. What now?"

"That, young Harry, depends on what you choose." Said a voice from behind him. "Normally someone you are familiar with would take this role, but your parents died before your memory fully took hold so they couldn't find this place in time. The fact that you're operating outside of the canon does not help matters."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he resorted to the standard of "Who are you?" as he looked around. He turned around to see an old man, not quite as old as Dumbledore, but still one with the signs of a full life.

"I am not surprised that you don't know my name; your father died before he could teach you your ancestry, and Albus certainly is loathe to start you on the Quest before you are prepared for it. None else alive would have known of the connection between us. I am the youngest of the Peverell brothers, Ignotus, and a rather distant ancestor of yours."

Again, Harry did not know what to say to this, so he went with another of the standard questions. "Where am I?"

"Where? That is a question I do not have an answer to, though you are here because you died. You have a choice in whether or not it sticks, however."

"Why?"

Ignotus shook his head. "Because you're only mostly dead, I can't directly reveal anything you don't already know without permission from higher up – partly to prevent 'cheating' as the Boss calls it, but mostly because this is all happening inside your head while somehow also being real at the same time. I never got a good explanation for how that works, myself." He chuckled, then continued. "But I can give you a couple hints if you choose to go back."

Harry nodded. He definitely wasn't ready to be dead yet, now that he thought about it. He wished he wasn't naked, though, and as soon as he did he was suddenly wearing white shorts and a thin white shirt.

"First, and this is related to why you're only mostly dead, you need to give the Diary to Professor Dumbledore and tell him to show it to Horace Slughorn. He'll know what to do."

Harry nodded and repeated the instruction. "Dumbledore, Diary, Horace Slughorn. Got it."

"The second is to travel to Azkaban Prison and ask Rastaban Lestrange about Slytherin's Folly."

Harry repeated this instruction as well. "Azkaban Prison, Rastaban Lestrange, Slytherin's Folly. Are you allowed to tell me why?"

"That one is related to the lizard thing underneath the bench that we've been ignoring up until now, and I can't give you any more details than that." Harry looked underneath the bench, and sure enough there was some kind of reddish lizard thing under the bench. It looked vaguely humanoid and mildly disturbing. "There is one more thing I can do for you, and we're already cheating anyway so I don't think the Boss is going to mind if I do this for you."

"What is it?"

Ignotus sighed. "To destroy Tom Riddle once and for all, you will need to draw upon 'power that the Dark Lord knows not.' I can imbue you with an emblem that will allow you to begin to learn and harness this power."

"Huh?"

"Basically, I'm giving you a shortcut to power. Though all things considered it's not so much a shortcut so much as it is a backup weapon in case you ever need to fight Tom Riddle and don't have your wand handy. If you accept this shortcut, you'll wake up with a mark on the back of your right hand and... actually that's about it. The mark will be on the back of your right hand, and since you're not fully alive right now I can't give you any better details or instructions about it. Just make sure you show it to Professor Babbling, the Ancient Runes professor."

"But I'm not scheduled for Ancient Runes." Harry protested weakly.

"You weren't exactly scheduled for '14th Century Alchemy' or 'The Basics of Battling Basilisks,' either, yet that didn't stop you from learning about Flamel last year and getting yourself bitten by a basilisk this year."

Harry nodded, acknowledging the point. "Alright... this is a lot to take in. I have to ask Horace Lestrange about Dumbledore's diary, and I have to show that to Professor Babbling...? No, that's not right..."

Ignotus paused, then sighed. "Actually, just ask Professor Dumbledore if there's a way for you to show him your memory of this conversation. All things considered, particularly your age and the fact that you have difficulty remembering things at the proper time anyway, it's probably for the better if he teaches you how to use a Pensive ahead of schedule."

Harry started to protest, but Ignotus gave him a brief hug before he could. "I believe this was enough stalling for Dumbledore's phoenix to cry tears into you, purging the basilisk venom and cleansing your aura so that your body can heal magically. For now, you wake up – with some information you weren't supposed to have yet, and with a Crest that you definitely aren't supposed to have ever. But we Peverells are nothing if not cheaters."

* * *

Dumbledore and the present Harry rose up out of the memory, and returned to the Headmaster's office. Albus took a handful of Floo Powder, called for Professor Babbling's office, and stuck his head into the emerald flames. After a moment, the headmaster withdrew his head and out stepped an older, taut woman. She had the same air of not tolerating nonsense as Professor McGonagall. "Mister Potter, raise your hand so that I may see this for myself."

Harry showed her the back of his wand hand. There was an emblem that he was familiar with thanks to his Astronomy class – it was the astrological sign of the moon, a waning crescent. This sign by itself was remarkable, but within the negative space of the crescent moon was a second, smaller emblem that he was unfamiliar with. It was vaguely hexagonal, but the at the top point it seemed as though a smaller hexagonal shape had been removed from it. In the lower part was what could best be described as a pair of eyes.

Bathtilda Babbling kneeled in awe. "I never thought I'd see another chosen of the Atlantean Magics in my lifetime, let alone the Millenial Duo."

"The Millenial Duo?" Dumbledore asked.

Professor Babbling nodded. "The crests of Protection and of the Dragon together, with Protection as the primary. I would be very surprised if anyone in Britain recognized it for what it is – Atlantean Crests aren't covered in the Hogwarts courses except as a historical footnote, as Atlantean Magic in general stopped being used on Earth with the Great Cataclysm. No other curriculum that I know of touches on them even in the context of history. Even during the Silver Millenium, the Millenial Duo was almost never seen, and even then only in the Atlantean Royal Line on occasion. What few surviving records we have from Atlantis make no mention of either Beryl or Strathmore bearing the combination, and there are no suriving Atlantean texts from before the commencement of the reign of King Strathmore."

There was silence for a moment, then Harry asked "So now what?"

Professor Babbling laughed lightly. "Mister Potter, I do not know. As I said before, Atlantean Magic in general stopped being used on Earth with the Great Cataclysm. Unless you find Atlanteans who escaped the Great Cataclysm, you will very much be learning on your own. What I can promise you, though, is that should you study wandless magic with dedication and steadfastness, you will find yourself reawakening a school of magic that has been lost for almost twenty five thousand years." With this, she turned to Dumbledore. "On that note, when exactly are you going to exorcise Binns? He hasn't taught anything other than the Goblin Rebellions and the early Renaissance since he died, and as I've told you many times before the more the students have to play catch-up as far as Ancient History goes the less actual Rune Study they can do. And don't give me that Budgetary nonsense, judging from the news I heard earlier tonight we have a perfectly good basilisk we can cannibalize for ingredients. That by itself should fund the school and staff for another century."

There was silence for a moment, then Harry asked "How do you know these are Atlantean Crests if nobody teaches about them?"

Bathtilda laughed. "A fair question. When I was first studying Ancient Runes on my own, I came across some Atlanteans who were trying to bring this ancient magic back to the modern world – I tried to help them but I wasn't 'compatible' with any of their experiments, so after I learned what I could from them they had me leave. I have no idea if the group is still around experimenting, since that was just before my cousin died about fifty years ago. By the way, I know she won't ever thank you personally since she never knew what exactly it was that killed her, so thank you for avenging her."

Harry nodded. "And thank you for the history lesson that I'm probably not going to remember. If I understand you correctly, then, I should learn to do wandless magic?"

"That is a deliciously succinct summary, yes. There are no formal courses for Wandless magic, and you'll need to master Nonverbal magic before you can make any headway with it... I would suggest you be tutored in Nonverbal Magic directly, but while Professor Snape is the best person to teach it to you from an academic standpoint, he is also the worst person you could ask to teach it to _you_ specifically. Severus has little patience for teaching to begin with, and the fact that your father's best friend almost killed him when they were in school together certainly doesn't help matters."

Harry turned to look at Professor Dumbledore, just as there was a knock on the professor's door. "You said my dad _saved_ Snape's life."

Professor Babbling smirked as she answered before Albus could. " _Professor_ Snape, and that is still true. Your father's best friend thought it would be amusing to expose Professor Snape to a fully-transformed werewolf. Your father prevented Severus from being attacked once he found out what was going on, but for a number of reasons Severus thought he was in on the joke. He never really forgave James for it."

"Could you teach me to do wandless magic, then, Professor Dumbledore?"

Albus considered this for a moment. "I certainly _could_ , yes. If scheduling permits, I will be be happy to train you in it."

There was a louder knock this time. "Enter" Albus said automatically, and in billowed Professor Snape. "Yes, Severus?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart was accepted into the Permanent Spell Damage Ward at St. Mungos two minutes ago. As you are still conferring with Potter and your Floo is busy, I assumed you did not yet have that information."

"Thank you, Severus, that was an accurate assumption. We were, in fact, just discussing when James Potter saved your life." Severus scowled at this, but Dumbledore continued on. "While I'm sure you would have enjoyed ruining Harry's opinion of his father yourself, Bathtilda has beaten you to the punch in revealing why saving your life was necessary in the first place. In light of that, would you be interested in informally teaching students how to perform Nonverbal magic next year, and as a formal course in years following?"

Professor Snape considered this torrent of information for a moment, recognizing the nonsensical segue as his cue to engage in Legilimency on Dumbledore so that no time would be wasted in actually bringing him up to speed. "I... believe I can make arrangements for next year, so long as I'm not training Potter in it. However, I do not have the resources to teach both Potions and a formal Nonverbal Magic course."

"Fair enough, I'll draw up the paperwork once scheduling for next term starts – hopefully we can make suitable arrangements for you in two years. Harry, if you would please make your way to the infirmary, I would ask you to have Madam Pomfrey check you for anything I may have missed."

With that, Harry excused himself from Dumbledore's office, unsure of what the dawn might bring…


	2. Move On Alone

**AUGUST 2, 1993**

 _4 Privet Drive, Surrey_

Under the light of the full moon, Harry dreamed. He dreamed of wolves hunting unicorns in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts. He dreamed of a great winged pig chasing his aunt Marge around the Hogwarts express. He dreamed of flying free above the Mediterranean Ocean, showing a werewolf named Vernon Dudley where the beginnings of a great tower once stood. But most of all, he dreamed of being forever freed from his aunt and uncle.

Under the light of the full moon, Dudley also dreamed. He dreamed that the Queen was having tea with him and his cousin while his parents performed parlor tricks. He dreamed of being able to fly under his own power, so long as gravity was otherwise occupied. He dreamed of parents who were unafraid of what others would think. But most of all, he dreamed of an aunt and uncle he never knew.

Under the light of the full moon that night in Surrey, a large black dog stood vigil over the house. He fondly remembered those nights where he and his friends would cavort and enjoy each other's company, and would keep comfort for their friend who was a werewolf. Sirius Black yawned and padded over to the vacant house at number seven. He would stay just long enough to get a glimpse of Harry, and then he would go onward to hunt the traitor. If he was going to Hell anyway, he would go there on his own terms, not the traitor's.

None of them knew what the morning would bring…

* * *

A yelp of surprise coming from Dudley room rent the air that morning. Harry groaned and tried to get back to sleep, knowing it was futile – if he'd done accidental magic again, Vernon Dursley would be on the warpath. He vaguely wondered what he'd have done this time. The last time he'd done accidental magic had been back at the zoo, in the reptile house. Usually, his accidental magic would be triggered, so he was left wondering what would have triggered it as he listened at the footfalls of Vernon and Petunia as they went to see what was going on...

"BOY!" exploded Vernon after about a minute. "GET IN HERE!"

Harry yawned and made his way over to his cousin's bedroom. Vernon was livid and Petunia worried. Aunt Marge was awestruck, which made Harry even more curious as to what was going on.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO DUDLEY!?" Vernon yelled. Harry pushed past him, ignoring him. The back of his hand was itching.

As far as he could tell, Dudley was normal. Well, if you counted cowering in fear upside-down on the ceiling to be 'normal'. Perhaps 'unharmed' would have been a better word. "Apparently I made him fly." Harry said blankly. "He looks unharmed aside from that." He went back to his room, leaving the Dursleys flustered in his wake.

Inside, Harry was on the verge of panic. He'd done magic on Dudley, he was sure of it, and soon the Ministry would be descending upon him to apprehend him for underage magic. He'd have to run. He felt a vague pang of guilt at leaving Dudley as he was – he still couldn't tell what the trigger for this had been – and resolved to send an owl to...

 _To who?_ Harry asked himself. _Ron and Hermione are both abroad. I could try writing to Dumbledore, he may know what to do._ The panic subsided a little. Dumbledore would indeed know what to do. But by the time Hedwig got to him, it would be too late – if for no other reason, then because the Dursleys would have kicked him out by that point. He took a brief glance out the window and saw a large black dog padding around the yard of Number 7. That dog looked familiar, but he couldn't figure out why. It wasn't one of Marge's, she had only brought Ripper. The dog looked at him and nodded... _nodded?_

Harry shook his head to clear it. He must have imagined the dog nodding at him. He scribbled a hasty note to Dumbledore ( _"Need help. Urgent."_ ) and sent Hedwig off with the note ("Hedwig, please get this to Dumbledore as quickly as possible") just as Uncle Vernon charged into the room.

"I told you not to use that owl to send-" Harry just walked past him again, wand in hand. He wasn't sure how long he could continue to completely disregard his uncle. He returned to Dudley's room and raised his wand. Dudley cowered more (not that he had anywhere to hide) while Aunt Petunia stood in shock.

The word came unbidden to Harry's lips. " _Finite._ " With a crack, the magic suspending Dudley to the ceiling failed to be removed. With a frown, Harry tried again – this time there was no crack, though the magic still refused to end. He heard the doors open and imagined ministry wizards charging into the house looking for him as he continued failing to undo the magic. He heard Uncle Vernon yell in anger "What are you doing in my house?"

And then he heard a voice he wasn't expecting yet. "I received word that Harry needed help." He knew Hedwig was fast, but there was no way she was that fast. "I understand it's urgent." Why was he already here? "I presume he is inside?"

Albus Dumbledore strode into the room. "Ah, Harry. What is the problem?"

"Look up, sir." Came the terse reply. "I keep trying _Finite_ but it's doing nothing. How did you get here so fast?"

Dumbledore chuckled as he looked at the floating Dudley, who was now trying very hard to hide in the far corner of the room. "I'm friendly with a local squib, one Arabella Figg. I believe you've met her before? She got word that you needed my assistance and contacted me at once." He withdrew his wand and began casting some spells. "We were already on high alert due to the escape of Sirius Black, so when she got your message we assumed he was attacking you."

Harry had so many questions about this reply that he wasn't sure where to start. Dudley was still floating, cowering as best he could. Dumbledore's expression changed from one of grandfatherly humor to a more serious mien – his magic wasn't working either. Harry's hand was still itching, and he thought he could see something on the back of Dudley's...

"Dudley, what's that on your hand?" Harry asked. Dudley whimpered and tried to hide it, but Dumbledore was quicker. He levitated himself up to Dudley and inspected his hand.

"There is a mark here on his hand. It resembles a will-o'-wisp." He said. "Very odd... did you have this mark when you went to bed last night, Dudley?"

Dudley shook his head. Dumbledore returned to the floor and put his wand away. "As far as I can tell, Dudley is making _himself_ float for fear of his own newfound power. I cannot begin to express my amazement that Dudley is showing magic, particularly at his age."

With this, both Vernon and Petunia dropped their jaws in amazement. "Dudders... has magic?" Petunia asked, with a mixture of fear and awe. But at Petunia's words, Dudley became even more panic-stricken, and a strong wind began to swirl around him. That was when it clicked for Harry.

 _Dudley is afraid that his parents are going to hate him now that he's a freak._ "Dudley, listen to me." Harry said. "Your parents will still love you. They just need to learn that being a freak isn't a bad thing."

The wind intensified. Apparently, Harry wasn't being as reassuring as he thought he was. He stepped back and turned to his aunt. "His magic is responding to his panic and is trying to protect him, but his panic is _because_ his magic is doing… this." He made a gesture to emphasize what he meant by _this_. "If you can convince him that you won't hate him for being magical, that should calm him down enough."

Vernon rounded on Harry. "You did this, you fix it. Now."

" _I_ did nothing. This-" Harry gestured at the miniature maelstrom brewing in the room "is all Dudley. And even if I had the power to fix it, I _wouldn't_. You need to come to terms with the fact that your son is a _freak_ like me now. And me removing his magic would just make him jealous." He was goading them, and he knew it, but he was at least enjoying having these parting shots.

Petunia blinked, but said nothing. Vernon, however, continued to rage. "Then I want you OUT of this house, boy. Your… your _abnormality_ is contagious! I will not stand for it!"

"He will have to be back at least a little next year." Dumbledore said idly. "Otherwise all of you will be exposed to evil wizards that will kill you all just for not being magical."

"I don't mind leaving forever. This is their mess, they can clean it up." Harry said bitterly. "I've never been _welcome_ here anyway. This has never been a _home_ to me, only a _house_." In that moment, Harry felt something break. It was as though a glass dome over the house had been smashed from the inside.

Dumbledore started, then composed himself. "I will help Harry gather up his belongings. It is up to you four now whether or not he returns here. Know this, however. The protections that I placed on this house all those years ago – protections that guarded you as much as him – will only hold so long as Harry can call this place a _home_."

* * *

"Did I do something bad just now, sir?" Harry asked as they packed away his belongings. Dumbledore considered the question for a moment. "Only I felt something break earlier when I said I didn't mind leaving forever."

"Yes, but you are not at fault for breaking it, and it can be repaired – though as I said before, that will depend on your aunt and her family. I will be better able to explain when we are at Hogwarts, but in summary so long as you can call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you will be protected from those who seek to do you harm." Dumbledore waved his wand and shrunk Hedwig's cage. "I'm sorry to say that the magic likely broke when you declared that this was never a _home_ to you."

Harry thought about this for a moment as he absently packed away his schoolwork. "Will they be protected from wizards like Malfoy?"

"Wizards like Lucius? Most wizards underestimate muggles to their detriment, and so long as your aunt's family is not caught unaware they will be able to defend themselves adequately. I know your uncle bought a rifle a few years ago. I will advise him to get things _straightened_ out about it sooner rather than later, as it is illegal for him to own it as things are now." Dumbledore smiled for a moment, though Harry didn't catch the joke.

"What will happen to Dudley?" Harry frowned. "Will they still love him?"

" _Your_ aunt and uncle will, though it will be a hard road for all of them. Dudley is precious to them, but so is their pride in being normal. I suspect that it will not take long, or rather I hope that it will not take long since the protections we can establish through the bonds of blood and sacrifice are far stronger than any others I could place. I cannot speak for his aunt Marjorie, as I have only met her today and have not properly observed her behavior."

"Is that why you're so good at guessing how people will behave? Because you observe them?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment, considering his answer. "That is part of it. Most wizards discount non-magical abilities such as observation and logic. I do have a few friends I can call on and tools I can employ to speed the process along, but there is no true substitute for simply observing the world around you. There is an old saying that applies to me especially, and that you would be wise to remember: ' _It is better to keep silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt_ '."


	3. Rover

**AUGUST 31, 1993  
** _Charing Cross Road, London_

* * *

That dog was back again.

He was friendly enough, and he was obviously (or perhaps obliviously) magical in nature given he was watching the Leaky Cauldron every morning. Nobody in the area seemed to know where he came from - not that this surprised Harry, as he had seen this same dog before leaving from Privet Drive. He had started appearing a couple days after Harry had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron with Dumbledore.

This morning, Harry decided to try and get to know the dog a little better, despite years of abuse from dogs at the urging of Marge making him more of a cat person. He tried to remember some of the techniques that Marge talked about when meeting an unfamiliar dog as he gathered the meat he'd bought earlier that day at the Magical Menagerie.

Dumbledore had specifically warned him not to enter Muggle London since Sirius Black was still on the loose, but he figured he was mostly safe if he was still within a leap of the Leaky Cauldron. Besides, Tom had agreed to step out with him as he tried to lure the dog inside so that he wasn't unaccompanied as he did this. Crouching so that he was eye-level with the dog, he held the meat out at arm's length and waited.

Two minutes later, Harry was leading the odd dog back to the Magical Menagerie to get him a checkup and a license. He couldn't explain why, but he felt _safe_ with this dog around. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this dog was a large black Italian Mastiff – this odd dog reminded him strangely of Marge's favorite dog Ripper, only with a gentler temperament. Or perhaps it was the idea that wizards would think he was a grim at first glance – no less than five witches panicked at the sight of this dog as they passed Flourish and Blotts. Although, considering Hedwig's adverse reaction, maybe it was just a girl thing.

Hedwig _might_ also have been jealous at Harry suddenly having a new pet. Since he had to write to Dumbledore anyway to make arrangements for his dog – as dogs weren't technically allowed at Hogwarts – he figured keeping Hedwig busy would ease tensions. At least, that had worked with his uncle. Harry figured that Ron (and by extension Percy) had a special exemption for Scabbers since rats were similarly not expressly allowed – the original Hogwarts letter specified "a cat OR an owl OR a toad" – and that it'd be wise to run the idea past Dumbledore first.

While they waited at the Magical Menagerie, Harry began writing a letter for the Headmaster. There was a bandy-legged ginger cat off behind the counter that kept glaring at his dog (soon to be named Dougal, much to the dog's annoyance). Harry paid the cat no mind as he finished the letter.

"…said he was bringing a stray dog back here to the Menagerie for adoption paperwork," Hermione's voice floated in through the open door as she and Ron entered the shop. "And I want to buy a pet and you said you wanted some rat tonic for Scabbers anyway – Hi, Harry!"

Ron's trip to Egypt hadn't done his complexion any favors – it was clear that, while he'd been sunburnt a few times, the only thing he had to show for being out in the sun were more freckles. Far more freckles than anyone was used to. Hermione, on the other hand, had tanned nicely while she was in France. Harry and Dougal rose up to greet them.

"Hi Ron, Hermione." Harry said. Dougal gave Hermione a cursory sniff, then began investigating Ron. "Dougal, down boy. What's wrong with Scabbers?"

"He's been a bit off-color since we got back from Egypt." Ron shrugged. "He's resting in my shirt pocket right now." Dougal reared up on his hind legs and sniffed at Ron's shirt pocket. Ron was visibly startled by this behavior – Dougal's resemblance to a grim was not lost on him.

" _Down_ , Dougal." Harry said, tugging at the lead. "Sorry about that, he's just curious."

"He didn't do that to Hermione." Ron countered. As if in response, Dougal reared up on his hind legs and sniffed at Hermione's shirt pocket. Harry tugged the lead again and Dougal sat down, apparently satisfied. "How'd you come to adopt a grim, anyway? Don't you know that they-"

"He's not a grim, he's an Italian Mastiff." Harry immediately replied. "Though you're not the first to call him a grim. And I haven't adopted him yet, the licensing paperwork's still being handled." Harry turned to Hermione. "So, you want a pet?"

"Yes."

"Any particular reason why?"

Hermione just gave him a look. "You have Hedwig and now Dougal, and Ron has Errol and Scabbers."

"Errol's not mine, he's a family owl." Ron said.

"—and Ron has Scabbers." Hermione corrected herself. "If the two of you can keep pets, I can."

"I don't really keep Hedwig, though. Most nights she gets her own food and such. It's more like I'm her roommate as opposed to her being my pet." Harry mused.

The proprietress came out and grinned toothily at Harry as she handed him a collar and tags. "That Hedwig of yours's a Familiar, then. Here's you done, though I dunno why you wanted this; hasn't been required in the Muggle world for a few years now, and Wizards've never required it. No illnesses or worms, and he's got a strong magic to him. He'll outlive other dogs like him so long as he don't get into a tussle with Black." She turned to Ron. "Now, Weasley, what's got you in here?"

Harry led Dougal away from the counter as Ron explained the situation with Scabbers and Hermione went back to look at animals. This was _his_ dog, and getting the license was his way of saying to the Dursleys (particularly Marge) that they _weren't_ taking this away from him. He did plan to go back to Privet Drive at least once more – he agreed with Dumbledore that the Dursleys deserve a second chance now that they were faced with the full consequences of their actions, and privately Harry knew that Dudley would need someone to talk to that wasn't Vernon and Petunia.

Dougal, for his part, sat attentively watching Scabbers on the counter. The proprietress was giving him a once-over when a blur of orange came flying out and started trying to climb on the counter. Scabbers jumped off the counter, and quickly Dougal moved to block the door. The cat hissed at both the dog and rat, the rat seemed completely petrified, and the dog seemed to be trying to block both the cat from eating the rat and the rat from running away.

Harry quickly scooped Scabbers up and placed him back on the counter. "How much for an enchanted rat cage?" Dougal and the odd orange cat glared at each other as Harry fished out some money to pay for it.

Ron immediately started to protest but Harry cut him off. "Consider it a late birthday present." He said as he saw Hermione collect the cat. "Especially since Hermione seems to have chosen that cat as her pet." Dougal relaxed, though the ginger cat continued glaring at him.

The proprietress laughed as she fished out an appropriate cage. "Crookshanks'd been here for ages. I was starting to think I'd never be able to give him away. It'll be twelve galleons for the rat cage, a knut for Crookshanks, and a knut for the rat tonic. No charge for the checkup."

"Why's it so cheap?" Ron asked.

"Your brother Percy loans his owl out to me during the school months to help pay for Errol's medicines. Figured I'd include this'n that since Crookshanks tried to eat your rat on my watch. Here, I'll need you to place your thumb on this red circle on the cage – like that, yes, hold right there for a minute." Time passed awkwardly, then the circle changed from red to green as the cage opened. "There, now you're the only one who can open or close it – you have to press your thumb to the circle to work the door. Green is open, red is closed. It's also enchanted so that nothin' but air can get in or out except through the doorway."

Dougal wagged his tail and barked happily. Crookshanks hissed at him in reply.

* * *

"You know you can't actually bring Dougal to Hogwarts, right?"

The three friends were sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, enjoying an overlarge ice cream sundae between them. Harry considered Hermione's question for a moment – Dougal was in Harry's apartment at the Leaky Cauldron, Crookshanks was sitting on the table, and Scabbers was in his cage at Ron's feet (given how Crookshanks disliked both other animals, it was decided that Dougal could mind himself at the inn, and Scabbers just needed to be out of sight).

"I actually owled Professor Dumbledore about that earlier – Percy must have been given an exception for Scabbers, and so legally it can happen again for me."

"Like with Colin and his camera equipment laying the groundwork for more students to bring cameras to Hogwarts," Hermione mused as the boy in question made his way over, "though in _his_ case they're not expressly outlawed."

"Why is that?" Colin asked. He'd never really looked into the whys before and this raised his interest.

Ron fielded the question. "Dad's explained it to me a few times. It's because most wizards don't care about adapting muggle devices – most things that run on ecclesiastry —"

"Electricity" Hermione corrected. "Ecclesiastry has something to do with religion."

"-are too sensitive to magic to function at Hogwarts, so students only bring them once. Anything that's purely mechanical can already be replicated with magic, so they're 'too simple to ban'. It's that weird middle-band of things that are complex enough to not be purely mechanical but still not reliant on elixickatree —"

"Electricity" Harry corrected. "I'm not even sure what 'elixickatree' is."

"-that need the most modifications to function at Hogwarts, and mucking around with those is already outlawed by the ministry anyway."

"So either it's too simple and magic already does that, it's too complex and can't be adapted, or else it's already generally illegal." Harry summarized. "So why are Cameras allowed?"

"Cameras and Watches started out as being purely mechanical, so they were 'too simple to ban.' It's only recently that watches became reliant on electrimancy—"

"Electricity" Colin corrected with a smile. "But you're getting there."

"-and cameras are easy enough to modify so that they don't need any of it at all. Cameras are held up to the face and watches are worn, so the enchantments that would harm muggles would also harm wizards. At that point they're considered dark artefacts, which falls under Magical Law Enforcement directly instead of Dad's office."

"So then why aren't wirelesses banned? They run primarily on electricity." Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "It has something to do with how tight the paths for it are. The wider the path, the less susceptible to interference from magic the electricity-"

"Electricity" the others corrected in unison, before realizing Ron had, in fact, said it correctly this time.

"-is. You could get a really old radio to work at Hogwarts,but not a newer one. Bill did this his seventh year to help Dad explain all this to some muggleborns that had smuggled their TV games in." He scratched his nose. "Stuff made in the '50s is where it starts to break down, but Dad hasn't figured out why yet. He thinks that it has something to do with valves."

"Is that why he collects plugs?" Colin asked. He'd heard that Arthur Weasley was eccentric for collecting plugs, but he'd never found out for certain that it even happened.

"Oh, no. He just thinks the plugs look interesting." Ron said, perfectly unembarrassed about what his dad did as a hobby. "Also, why are you here Colin?"

"Harry asked me to come." Everyone turned to Harry.

"I wanted to get a picture with Dougal to keep with me in case Dumbledore couldn't convince the School Governors to let me bring him." Harry said. "Except Dougal's back at the Leaky Cauldron…" He thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I don't have any photos of all three of us together, either. Maybe we could make it a group picture, with us and our pets… Can you meet us at the Leaky Cauldron later, Colin?"

Colin nodded. Harry Potter _asking_ for his picture taken? This was a rare chance. "I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron too – my parents have a meeting tomorrow morning about one of my cousins and won't be able to see me off. I'm already done with my school shopping, too, so…"


	4. Locomotive Breath

The morning's post was interesting.

First, Harry got a response back from Dumbledore about Dougal and Hogsmeade. The Governors reached a decision about Harry's current lack of guardians – since he had no guardians to give permission to go to Hogsmeade, it would be left up to the Headmaster. Dumbledore's decision was that Harry would not be allowed to visit Hogsmeade while Sirius Black was at large. This wasn't what Harry _wanted,_ but it was not _unexpected_.

Second, and due to the previous decision, the Governors gave their permission for him to keep a dog at Hogwarts, but the dog wouldn't be allowed on the train – Dougal would wait at the Burrow with the Weasleys, and Dumbledore would collect him from there. Dougal seemed okay with this.

Third, Harry got a yellowed newspaper clipping. It was of the Weasleys in Egypt. This made no sense (Harry had already gotten a copy of this same article from Ron earlier in the summer), and neither did the message on the back of the clipping.

 _Remus Lupin would be very interested in meeting Scabbers._

It was signed, 'Padfoot'. Harry didn't know anyone, or even any _thing_ called a Padfoot. And why would _Harry_ get a note about _Scabbers_?

Harry didn't know. When he asked Ron and Percy, all he got was a shrug. And the twins weren't any help either – they knew the name Padfoot (and wouldn't say how) but didn't have any ideas what Scabbers or Remus Lupin would have to do with them.

When later asked about it, the twins would claim that the reason they started pranking Harry after that morning was that they felt he was being unfairly left out of the fun.

* * *

"Useful having a teacher on the train, isn't it? Malfoy's not messing with us today." Harry said as he leaned back in his seat. "He's not that stupid."

The rain was pounding down on the train compartment as the Hogwarts Express made its way up to Hogwarts. They had been on edge ever since the pocket sneakoscope had unexpectedly started whistling early on in the journey (they could still just barely hear it through the bundle of old socks it was stuffed in).

That Professor Lupin slept through the sneakoscope, Ron's outrage at Harry not being allowed to visit Hogsmeade, and Draco's interruption… that he'd slept through all of that was astounding.

"If he's the same Remus Lupin that this Padfoot person was writing about, though," Ron said, "why would he be interested in Scabbers?"

"Why does that Padfoot person even know you have a rat?" Hermione asked.

"Is it just me," Harry said suddenly, "or is the train slowing down?"

Indeed, the train was slowing down. Suddenly, the compartment was bathed in darkness and cold. Harry felt incredibly faint and could barely keep his mind on the present. He was disoriented by all the screaming and, when some students came barreling into the compartment, he lost his grip on reality entirely as the train came to a complete stop...

* * *

He awoke to a vaguely familiar room and the scent of hot chocolate.

"Ah, he's awake. How are you feeling, Harry?" An unfamiliar voice said.

"What happened?" Harry looked around for his glasses, recognizing his surroundings as the hospital wing. Dumbledore and Professor Lupin were there with him, as were a handful of students. Dumbledore's pensive was on the table next to him.

"A Dementor got a little over-eager in their search of the train." Dumbledore said. "Remus's memory is still in the pensive if you would like to see it for yourself."

"What's a dementor?"

"We don't quite know." Albus said. "Some have suggested that they're the final form of ancient predators of humans known as Ra'zac. Others claim that they're remnants of Drachicanar or Liliandror. Others still posit that a Dementor is just… nothing, a void in nature covered by the illusion of a creature."

Harry shook his head, deciding that he wasn't getting a meaningful answer any time soon, and entered the pensive memory.

While Harry was in the pensive, Dumbledore addressed Lupin and the students. "Thank you for your help today, Remus, but you really do need to _get your rest_. Your potion is already in your quarters. I'll keep the students here while they recover – I'll make sure they get their chocolate – and I need to speak with Harry tonight anyway."

Remus seemed to war with himself. He looked from Dumbledore to the Pensive, then to Ron Weasley. "Alright then. Mister Weasley, I'll speak with you when I get back from my procurements. Good night, Albus, Mister Longbottom, Miss Granger. Give my regards to Harry, please."

Harry emerged from the Pensive right as the door closed behind Remus. "Professor… that spell that Professor Lupin cast, the one that used his love to shield us from the dementors, what spell is that?"

"Love?" Dumbledore blinked. "…the spell he cast is called the Patronus charm, and to cast it a wizard must focus very strongly on a very happy memory. Dementors feed on-"

"Professor," Harry interrupted as he sat back down on the bed. "I'd like to see that spell again. Will you cast it?"

Albus hesitated, then cleared his mind. With a flourish of his wand, he produced a shining, silvery bird that looked strikingly like Fawkes.

Harry scratched idly at the back of his marked hand, and closed his eyes. "So that's how it is. Why did I faint?"

"Dementors attack by amplifying our negative emotions – fear, hatred, anger – and by forcing us to remember the worst moments of our lives."

The screaming he'd heard was ringing in his ears again. "So then because I have worse trauma in my history, I'm more vulnerable." He sighed. "I suppose I'll have to learn how to conjure a patronus like your bird and Professor Lupin's wolf."

"Wolf? What wolf?" Ron asked. "I didn't see a wolf, all I saw was a sort of silvery mist."

Harry shrugged. "I must have imagined it, then. In any case, I don't want to hear Voldemort killing my mum every time I go to visit Hagrid."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement as he started handing out bars of chocolate. "Indeed, it would be wise to learn how to cast the Patronus charm – though I would remind you that the dementors are here for the protection of not just yourself but those around you as well. So long as Black is at large, they will deter him from the school – and so I must ask you to not disturb them unduly."

Harry held his hand up to the ceiling, palm-upwards. He resisted scratching at the itching emblems on the back of his hand. "When do we start the wandless training?"

"We can start with theory tonight, if you'd like. You wouldn't be able to do any practical practice for it until you've rested, at any rate. Miss Granger and Misters Weasley and Longbottom may join you in this if they wish."

"Isn't wandless magic supposed to be super difficult?" Ron asked.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "It can be, but I believe that the four of you – yes, Mister Longbottom, you as well – can become proficient in wandless magic with enough effort. But our lessons will first begin with _nonverbal_ magic. The discipline and focus necessary for nonverbal magic will prove helpful for mastering wandless magic." And with this, he produced a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_.

"What does _Hogwarts: A History_ have to do with learning nonverbal magic?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore's smile didn't change. "It's a shame most wizards discount the lessons and sciences that muggles have mastered; I've only recently come to understand why it would be easier for Miss Granger to master nonverbal magic than for Mister Weasley."

"I mean Hermione's brilliant and all that, but why would _Hogwarts: A History_ mean that Hermione would be better than me at nonverbal magic?"

"Do you know how talking works?"

Surprisingly, it was Neville who answered. "We push air from the lungs, through the voice box – which is a bunch of muscles or something in the throat – and out through the mouth. The lungs control volume, the voice box controls pitch, the mouth controls phonics." Fawkes chirped at this last one. "I said 'Phonics', not 'Phoenix'. Letters and stuff."

"So what does that have to do with nonverbal magic?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore handed her the book.

"Miss Granger, I want you to hold a hand to your voice box as you read. It does not matter what page you read from – what matters is that you read _nonverbally_."

With a fair bit of shifting in her seat, she did so. After a few minutes, she looked up. "What am I supposed to be feeling for?"

"Did you notice your throat moving as though you were reading the words aloud?"

Hermione started, then cast a sensitivity-boosting spell on her fingertips as she dove into the exercise again. A minute later… "I can barely feel it even with the spell's help, but yes – there's definitely something happening in my throat as I read."

"As you read nonverbally, your throat works to recreate what you're reading as though you were reading it out loud in order to support what's called your 'inner voice'. Severus – Professor Snape – suggested a couple months ago as we were preparing these lessons that developing a strong inner voice might be key to developing strong proficiency with nonverbal magic. Since most of our students who master nonverbal magic are Ravenclaws, it would fit the hypothesis that _the more you read, the better you get at nonverbal magic_."

And with that, Ron's eyes were opened (so to speak). "So then, if I start reading more, I can do something that Fred and George and Bill have trouble with?"

"William still has trouble with nonverbal magic?" Dumbledore asked, then shook his head as though to clear it. "Indeed, the more you nonverbally read, the stronger your inner voice will get, and – if Severus is correct – the easier it will be for you to master nonverbal magic."

"Which brings us back to the original question. What does _Hogwarts: A History_ have to do with all of this?" Harry asked.

"Nothing whatsoever, as far as the content is concerned." Dumbledore said. "But it's an example of the sort of book you would need to read in order to build your inner voice."


End file.
